Wrap Yourself In Daffodils
by Emerin
Summary: He needed to say goodnight...but it wasn't until his own night fell upon him that he was able to close his eyes on the man he loved and go to sleep himself. xSLASH DracoHarry x


Hullo gentle readers!

Here's a sad little one-shot I came up with in the middle of my seriously bad day. I hope you all enjoy it, and i SWEAR I'm trying my hardest to get the next chapter of GRAVITY finished and posted. Sirius is just refusing to cooperate with me :grumbles, glancing at said brunette: damn prima-donna. and Harry isn't helping much either...he just sits there, wide-eyed and confused...LIKE YOU'RE REALLY SO DAMN INNOCENT HARRY!...:takes a deep calming breath: Ok, anyways. Moving onto the story...Enjoy! And i want lots of positive reviews because I admit, i actually cried when i re-read this thing. It struck home man!

A/N: I know the details are REALLY shady, but i'm sure you can use your imagination to fill in the blanks. The gist of the sitation is the war came to a brutal end when Draco and Harry were about 19. Unfortunately, the casualities hit very close to home, leaving Draco and his boarder of 5 years, Ron Weasley, very much alone in Malfoy Manor...I bet you can take a stab as to who else was shacked up with them...

A/N2: Flowers are the big theme here. They're VERY subtlely mentioned, but they're there.I use them as an metaphor for death. See if you can catch it. -

* * *

So,I just came back from Scotland about twenty minutes ago...I know what you're wondering. "What's in Scotland other than a pile of rubble?" 

Well, thats easy; The person who meant the most to me in the entire world...Granted, he's dead now, but he's still the reason I went there...

You see...Harry Potter died almost two and a half years ago. And in that time,I had never once visited his grave.You could say I was determined to stay in denial. I was convinced he was still alive and well in my manor...If I never wentto his grave and confirmed it,Harry could still live in my house and make his favorite garlic pasta for dinner and cock his eyebrow when he laughed at someone's oddness and bite his lip when someone made him nervous and giggle when I tickled his sides and smile so incredibly warmly it melted my bones and stare at me with such unconditional love that I never felt the need to look away...

If I just stayed away, he could continue to live in my thoughts and they could be as real as if they had happened just yesterday...

But I was running my life into the ground. Every step I took, every decision I made, was on the basis that I wasn't REALLY going to live to be there.

I had only myself fooled.

All my lies to keep myself together, to keep my shell looking happy and perfect... they ate at me...I realized only too late that I had let my lies take over me. I couldn't continue to imagine that Harry was simply upset with me over our fight about Weasley meaning a BIT too much to me, thats why he wasn'tspeaking to me. I couldn't anxiously wait for the door to open or panic each timeWeasley brought in the mail or hold my breath each timeI checked my messages at the Ministry. It was-...enough was enough.I couldn't live in this dreamworld I had created to keep my heart safe.I couldn't continue to survive in my world where Harry was still alive...

So I cornered Weasley, told him he needed to ride with me on the Knight Bus to Scotland, and fifteen minutes later I found myself on the road to finally confronting my worst demons.

We went straight to the cemetary...I didn't find stalling to be of any use. I'd already stalled for close to three years. The bus stopped by this tiny mosuleum and I grimaced as my foot sank into the crunchy grass...I don't remember exactly how I knew where I was going, but I somehow found myself in the middle of a series of flat gravestones.I didn't even bother to scoff at how, even in death, Harry remained humble.

I wanted to run...I wanted to scream...I wanted to throw myself atWeasley and demand he take me home right away. Instead,I followed him as he led me to a grave beneath the saddest weeping willow I'd ever seen. I remember relating to that tree so well...So stoic,so wimpy. As if the slightest breeze would make it come crashing to the ground. Its branches hung low with the weight of the world, its burden too much for it to handle alone..Yet it stood, despite the sadness that had seeped into its roots. It stood.

When I knelled down besides the stone, I don't remember if the scream was outloud or just in my mind..But there they were...the words that had tormented me in the worst of my nightmares:

"Harry J. Potter July 31st, 1981- October 31st 2000. He Was Loved."

I honestly don't remember much after that...But my hands are bloody and bruised, my eyes are sore and my legs feel like jelly...

After going through a mental breakdown of sorts and screaming obscenities to anything that would listen to a madman's pleading, I came to on a stone bench.Weasley was hovering over me, panic in his beautiful brown eyes and when I looked past him,I saw Harry and Granger and little Ginny Weasley...It didn't occur to me just how insane I had become...

Harry smiled at me. Smiled at me in the way I always remembered he did...So warm, so unguarded, so open, so loving...Like every ounce of his beauty was in those eyes.

Granger and Weasley smiled at me then disappeared...I knew Harry was following, felt it in my bones, and I screamed for him not to..._I NEED YOU_, I said, but he just smiled at me, as if it were all amusing. He then said I didn't need to need him anymore because someone else was going to take care of me now...

_I didn't WANT someone else taking care of me, I wanted HIM to take care of me..._

He laughed and it sent chills down my spine and I wanted him to wrap his arms round me so I could press my ear to his chest and listen to that laughter.

"Just one more time," I begged, tears blurring him from my vision. "Just once more."

He shook his head and planted a kiss on my forehead. His fingers brushed mine and my heart shriveled into nothing as he disappeared, a gentle smile on his lips.

Weasley Disapparated us to some muggle pub in the village nearby and we ate in a dark corner in the back. Well, _he_ sort ofate, but I could tell his attention was more on me curled up on the booth than his sandwich.  
I knew he was crying for me, I knew he could feel my pain, knew he was feeling it even more so if that were even possible and I knew I should've reached over and let him comfort me, but I didn't want him to...I wanted nothing and no one to break the delicate wall I was rebuilding round myself.  
I had fashioned a new one.One that accepted that Harry was dead and never coming back. But I was never going to love like that again...I was NEVER going to give myself and risk hurting as badly as I was right then...I had loved Harry desperately, so very desperately. He was my true love.

If he wasn't,I wouldn't remember all of his dozens of smiles and the way his hair smelled like green apples andone strand ALWAYS hung over his left eye when he was reading and his skin tasted like sunkissed peaches and his eyes sparkled like real emeralds when he was laughing and his hands always managed to find mine and a blush on his cheeks was the cutest thing I'd ever seen and his lips always found my neck before my mouth and his body the inspiration for my faith in God, in addition to many nights of the best sleeps I've ever had and a freckle on his right shoulder tasted sweeter than any eclair and he always gasped, squeezing his eyes shut, when I kissed his pelvis and his voice was the reason Love was created and his fingers on my skin, the most wonderful song...his breath next to my ear my very reason for being...  
If he wasn't my true love, I couldn't remember thousands of little things like that and adore each and every one of them...I couldn't touch my lips and remember EXACTLY what it felt like to have him kiss them or trace them with his thumb.

So now I'm home (if you can even call it that anymore)and the ache has only grown and solidified...I thought I would be set free after that, but I'm not. I'm only certain now that Harry is gone forever and I'm all alone...

I know what he wants for me, I know his wishes for my life, but I don't want them for myself. I just want his arms and his lips and his smiles and his hair and his body and his eyes and his love and his warmth and his laughter and his fluffy comforter and his Quidditch posters and his sickening optimism and his unwaivering trust in people and his courage and his strength and his ability to take whatever you just said and figure out what you REALLY meant and his...and his...and...his...

**him**.

I just want HIM. One more time. Just once more...

So now what am I supposed to do? I can cry myself ragged, takehot showers and live on autopilot...but for how long? How long can I last this time without Harry Potter coming to rescue me?

The answer to that is simple: I won't.

Because while Harryslumbers in a bed of white flowers, I wrap myself in pain. The truth is, I can not say goodbye to my fiance...and I don't think I'll ever want to.

So I will lie in bed for the rest of my life, crimson red drowning my sheets and Harry's favorite t-shirt that still smells like him. I will close my eyes and feel his kiss at my hairline as my skin grows cold...I will hear him whisper goodnight to me and I will finally sleep...

I sleep.

_I was wasted in the afternoon, waiting on a train  
I woke up in pieces and Harry disappeared again  
I wish you were inside of me  
I hope that you're ok  
I hope you're resting quietly  
I just wanted to say...  
Good goodnight Harry  
Goodnight  
Good goodnight Harry  
Goodnight..._


End file.
